


It All Comes Back to Yuri

by ValGalFic9



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon Compliant, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9567803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValGalFic9/pseuds/ValGalFic9
Summary: The letters had been on his wrist Victor's whole life and he had honestly never given them much thought. Yuri was a common enough name.Victor's whole world came crashing down when he met Yuri PlisetskyIt started again the night he met Katsuki Yuri.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tessa Crowley (tessacrowley)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessacrowley/gifts).



_Yuri._

Victor rubbed absently at the name on his wrist. The letters had been there his whole life and he had honestly never given them much thought. It was a common enough name in Saint Petersburg, rampantly common if he was honest. And while he had wondered about his soulmate, with the abundance of Yuris he’d always known it was just a matter of time before they crossed paths. So rather than dwell on it, he’d thrown himself into his skating, pushing himself harder than any coach in an attempt to ignore the agony of yet another year of waiting.

At twenty, he was well established in his career. He had won several championships by the age of 16, and was now routinely choreographing his own free skates. This year he had even commissioned his own music.

Lost in his thoughts as he practiced a new free skate for the coming season, he only dimly noticed coach Yakov on the edge of the rink introducing a new boy to Mila and the others. He must be one of Yakov’s students from the skating camp, Victor thought absently before speeding up for a jump.

Stepping out of the landing in his distraction, he cursed and decided to stop ignoring the coach’s summons, gliding over to the group and stealing Mila’s water bottle with a cheeky grin. “Spasibo,” he said with smile, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

Mila rolled her eyes and stole her water back with a laugh. “Vitya, stop fooling around! We have a new teammate- isn’t he adorable?” She teased, laughing when the small blonde bristled. “Yakov says he’s the best out of the latest camp group. Victor, meet Yuri Plisetsky.”

_Yuri._

_Yuri?_

Victor felt the blood drain from his face.

 ** _YURI?!_** _No. Nonono. This couldn’t- NO. He’s too young!_ They were all staring at him. Maybe they thought he was ill? He certainly thought he would be. His mouth was dry and his stomach was tying itself in knots. _Say something, Nikiforov! Snap out of it!_

Somehow he managed a smile that was a pale ghost of his usual effervescence. “Welcome, Yuri.” It was terse, but it was something at least. _There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Dear God he’s tiny! There has to be a mistake!_ Gliding over to the gate, he reached for his skateguards and slipped them on before heading over to a bench for his own water bottle.

 _Just think. Don’t panic. Think._ He took a long pull on the bottle, wishing it had something stronger in it than water. _Maybe it’s just a mistake. Does that happen? Does_ his _mark have my name?_ _How old is he? Can he even read? I can’t just ask him about his mark._

The panic was returning in full force and he could still feel Mila’s eyes on him. She was probably wondering why he was being so rude. God this was awful.

“Coach!” Yakov looked over at him with a hint of annoyance. “I’m not feeling great – I think I forgot to eat breakfast again,” he said with a smile much stronger than he felt. He saw the annoyance grow on Feltsman’s face, but clearly his coach also saw something in Victor that made him sympathetic. Or at least as sympathetic as he was capable of being. “Is it okay if I leave a little early to grab something?” He gladly endured the lecture about healthy eating habits in exchange for a chance to escape.

On his way toward the locker room he overheard the boy – Yuri, his mind supplied helpfully again – saying something to the others.

“ _That’s_ Victor Nikiforov? What a jerk! ”

Oh god, was Yuri a _fan_? He hadn’t thought of that possibility. He hurried his steps and missed Mila’s defense that Victor wasn’t himself today.

***** 

Over the next few weeks, Victor did his best to avoid his new rinkmate. He came up with all sorts of excuses, some weaker than others. Never had he ever been more grateful for the Russian winter and the necessity of long sleeves. He felt like it was tattooed on his forehead instead of his wrist. Four small letters, and they’d completely ruined his life.

Victor had to admit it: Yuri Plisetsky was a fantastic skater. He was headstrong, talented, and utterly fearless. He wasn’t intimidated by the other skaters or by Yakov, and Victor could see a reflection of his younger self in the boy. Driven to be the best and willing to do anything to win.

But the thought of this young skating powerhouse as his soulmate had Victor in a shambles. He was losing sleep and flubbing jumps, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. Only threats of being pulled from competitions straightened him out. He did his best to avoid the blonde, scheduling his practices at the crack of dawn, or working on jumps on the opposite end of the rink. So what if the boy thought he was rude? Maybe it wasn’t even him, and Victor was just overreacting. At least with this much practice he’d be sure to cinch the GPF and Worlds again.

*****

As time passed, Victor began to loosen up again around Yuri. It was hardly the boy’s fault they were soulmates. (Though he’d be damned if he was ever going to bring that up – it was still far too embarrassing.) But he could show him how to land jumps, or tease him like Mila did, and try to feel normal again.

 If anything, his efforts to avoid Yuri over the past few months had made the boy even more determined. He clearly thought Victor was a ditz, which was harsh but not altogether false, and forgetful, which was 100% true, and he had become fiercely competitive. The other day Yuri had even vowed that he would break every record Victor ever set, which made Victor laugh until he saw the raw fury and determination shine through in the boys free skate at the Russian Nationals. Yuri Plisetsky would be a force to be reckoned with once he made it to the senior division. If he was honest, Victor was a little nervous about the thought of his soulmate being his competition.

For now, though, he was easy to tease and it was easy for Victor to remind himself he was young and not at all soulmate material. Besides, with the season in full swing, there was always that Swiss skater to flirt with to take his mind off things…

In fact, there were several skaters to take his mind off things with. He was known as a social butterfly and a bit of a ditz and he hated to disappoint his fans. Calling up a few of the others, he arranged dinner and dancing at the most popular club in town. He knew he could rely on Chris for pictures and fun as they painted the town.

*****

It was a few years later when Victor’s world turned on its head for the second time. He was 27 and he was days away from his 5th consecutive Grand Prix Final gold. He had paid more attention than usual to his competitors this year now that Yuri was only a year away from his senior debut. Victor was determined to win every medal this year, before he had to face Yuri as a competitor. If he faced him. But that was a thought for after the medal ceremony.

Victor had seen Katsuki skate before, though this was his first time qualifying for the GPF. Watching the Japanese skater perform, he couldn’t help observing how inconsistent he was. It was like he was afraid to fully commit or he had lost his focus.

Victor won, of course. When he took to the ice again for the medal ceremony, his mind drifted away from the dark-haired young man, and in the tumult of the photographs and interviews Katsuki vanished. Victor felt lost, standing before the crowd. He had broken the world record again, and won yet another gold, but he felt directionless. He smiled off the questions from reporters about next season with a vague comment of “it will be a surprise.”

He dressed for the banquet absently, pulling on the charcoal wool three piece suit and tying his tie by muscle memory. He always looked forward to the excuse to mingle with the other skaters in a less formal setting, with all the pressure of the competition behind them. Even better, it was Plisetsky’s last junior competition at the GPF, so their coach would be keeping him busy schmoozing with the sponsors before his senior debut.

Victor wasn’t expecting the dance-off. Katsuki had kept to himself for a while at the start of the party, taking advantage of the freely flowing champagne, then suddenly he was in front of the Russian team challenging Yuri to a dance-off. Yakov was saying something about not losing his head and _the sponsors_ , but Yuri shoved his mocktail into Victor’s hands and grinned with that feral look normally reserved for the moment before he intended to kick someone’s ass on the ice. This would be _good_.

Handstands… headstands… taking everything far too seriously and not seriously enough… shirts riding up and showing off lean, muscled stomachs… Laughing and drinking and – (“WHERE DID THAT POLE COME FROM? JESUS, CHRISTOPHE!”) – Victor found himself relaxing and having more fun than he had in years. If only his wrist read Katsuki, he thought. This man was crazy and fun and he’d be an even more fantastic skater with a little push.

*****

The end of the season was a blur of competitions, training, and living out of a suitcase in dozens of hotel rooms. Victor was used to the routine by now, but it felt more wearisome this year. He had been toying with the idea of taking a year off, or even retiring entirely, though he hadn’t discussed it with anyone yet. He still didn’t quite know if it was just the thought of competing against Yuri or if it was something more that kept it on his mind. He continued to train and develop his programs for next season but it was half-hearted. Something was missing—he couldn’t find any inspiration and without that he wouldn’t be able to keep winning.

After a few months of drifting aimlessly through daily life back in Saint Petersburg, he got a message from Chris. It was a link to a video that had been posted last night, and was already going viral.

 

He couldn’t read the title since it was in Japanese, but the name in the translated description caught his eye: _Katsuki Yuri. Yuri. YURI!_ Victor had completely forgotten that Japanese skaters addressed each other by their last names!

He clicked the link on his phone, attention laser focused on the tiny screen. Someone had added music to the original video and the familiar song from his free skate filled his ears and Makkachin glanced up and wagged his tail, recognizing the tune his master had hummed so frequently over the past year. It _was_ the skater from the Grand Prix Final! He was pouring his heart into the performance in a way even Victor hadn’t been able to achieve. While he missed a few of the jumps, the passion of the performance was undeniable. 

Victor grabbed his laptop and played the video again as Katsuki Yuri’s words came back to him. His family had a resort in Japan. He wanted Victor to train him. He was skating Victor’s own free skate… almost like a love letter. But it was one frame that decided him—he caught a glimpse of part of Yuri’s own soul mark where his glove rode up. He rewound the video, watched it again, and paused, his heart in his throat.

Before he could think twice, Victor had booked a flight and was scrambling to pack a bag. He called Coach Yakov, asking him to meet him on his way out of town. He took the earful of colorful names and entreaties and threats in stride, kissing his coach’s cheek and heading into the terminal of Pulovko Airport with a spring in his step. Boarding the plane his head was full of Yuri.

 

**_Barcelona, one year later:_ **

“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

This high over Barcelona, the wind is strong. Yuri is grateful if only because it means his hair is obscuring the rising heat on his face.

This new stranger, this Otabek Altin from Kazakhstan, is gripping the railing tightly with one hand and staring at him. He doesn’t answer.

Without meaning to, Yuri’s opposite hand grips his wrist, where the Cyrillic lettering feels almost hot on his hand.

“Otabek?” he repeats, slowly. When he was first learning to read, he thought it sounded made-up, like a prank his mother pulled on him with a tattoo gun before he’d remember the pain of it. What kind of a name is Otabek, anyway?

Rather than answer, Otabek slowly pulls up his own sleeve.

 _Yuri_ , it says, and Yuri’s heart thunders.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri has always dreamed his soulmate would be /the/ Victor, but being proven right takes him by surprise.

Yuri had always known his soulmate would be a foreigner. The katakana were the first clue, since a Japanese name would be in kanji. And after all, Victor was hardly a common name in Japan. Perhaps he would study abroad in college or travel as part of his job. He spent many long hours ever since he could read the name wondering and dreaming about his match.

When he was 12 he saw Victor Nikiforov skate for the very first time. Yuuko had tuned the tiny TV in the Ice Castle to the junior free skate GPF and they watched together in awe as the Russian blew away the competition effortlessly. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes off the screen as he skated. Yuri wanted to skate that way some day; it seemed as natural as breathing. But it was more than his skating that had caught Yuri’s attention. The older boy had the same name as his soulmate!

*****

His infatuation with Victor Nikiforov intensified as the years passed. Yu-chan teased him a little about adopting Vicchan after reading the article about Victor’s poodle, but Yuri didn’t mind. Nishigori laughed at him as he practiced Victor’s routines with Yu-chan, but his skating only improved until his friend couldn’t tease him anymore. 

He was so nervous when he first qualified to skate competitively in juniors that he flubbed nearly all his jumps and didn’t even place in the Nationals. But his friends encouraged him to try again, saying Victor wouldn’t give up over one bad performance.

So instead he spent hours practicing in Minako-sensei’s studio and the Ice Castle, honing his skills and trying to keep his anxiety in check.  Slowly his confidence came back and he won a few bronze medals. It wasn’t as exciting as a gold, but it was something special nonetheless. 

Yuri frequently dreamed of one day sharing the ice with Victor as an equal. In his more elaborate daydreams, he skated a routine that Victor couldn’t ignore, pouring his heart out on the ice and narrowly snatching the gold from his idol. Victor was so impressed that he sought Yuri out afterwards, sweeping him off his feet into a kiss before revealing his own soulmark. It would never happen, but it was a pleasant dream.

*****

When he was 18, Yuri and his parents had saved enough to get into the skating program run by Celestino Cialdini in Detroit. His family was extremely supportive of his skating, especially his sister. She was the only one he had confided about his soulmark to, and she had encouraged him to apply to the program in the US.  They both thought it was more likely he would run into his soulmate there than in Japan, and Celestino was one of the best coaches around. 

He dated a few times during his first year in the States but had trouble opening up about himself, especially because their marks didn’t match his own. Probably the closest he came to a true relationship was Clare, a music composition major who was in his freshman seminar. They got along well despite his emotional reserve, and could have been great friends if he’d been a little more confident in himself.  

Yuri had commissioned a song from her to express his skating career and had hoped to use it for his free skate that year. Celestino’s lukewarm response to the song changed his mind and he put the cd away on his shelf intending to revisit it but lacking the motivation. A week later he received a text from Clare.

 

 

Their friendship began to fray after that, and he couldn’t find the energy needed to repair it. Their marks didn’t match anyway, he told himself. He wasn't just a coward...

*****

It was two years after he started training in Detroit that he first skated on the same ice as Victor Nikiforov. Yuri was a nervous wreck.  What if it was totally obvious how head-over-heels he was? What if Victor just thought he was some stupid fan? The reality ended up even worse: Victor didn’t even seem to notice him during his short program! 

Yuri was so frustrated the next day that he didn’t pay attention to where he was when he sped up for a jump during the warm up before the free skate.  Before he knew it he had slammed into Christophe Giacometti, sending both of them sprawling onto the ice. 

He rose and offered Christophe a hand up. “ Moushi wakenai , Giacometti-san. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Yuri said, face burning in embarrassment. 

“It’s okay, it happens,” Chris said, taking the hand up with a smile. “You don’t seem the sort to try to take out the competition,” he added with a wink and a grin. “But next time I’ll know it was on purpose.” Yuri laughed weakly at the joke, but he was rattled.

Shaking with nerves he went over to Celestino where he waited along the rail. Yuri had been unlucky enough to draw the first slot and he worried about the difficulty of the routine. He could only land one quad somewhat reliably outside of practice, and this free skate incorporated two. Celestino had told him before that he could win without them, but Yuri was stubborn; a trait he now deeply regretted.

Trying to calm himself down, Yuri  closed his eyes and tried to summon his daydream again- his Victor was  _ the _ Victor and he was watching just for Yuri. Opening his eyes and glancing at the crowd he was startled to see his daydream was at least partially right: Victor Nikiforov  _ was _ watching! 

Stamping down the nerves that threatened to overwhelm him, Yuri skated out to the center and took his starting pose.  _ This is all for you, Victor. _

The first half of his program was a surprise success, landing his first quad and his triple combinations with ease. Yuri allowed himself to be carried away by the fantasy. Everything was going so well.

And then Victor left.

Yuri caught a glimpse of his idol leaving the rink as he finished his step sequence and missed his cue for a jump. His vision was blurry without his glasses, but the silver hair and the jacket were unmistakable. He under-rotated, turning the planned triple into a double and flubbing the landing.

Hot tears blurred his vision in the kiss and cry afterwards. His chest felt tight as he waited for his scores, but he already knew they wouldn’t be high enough. He had managed to squeak through the rest of the routine, but it wouldn’t be enough to secure 4th, let alone a spot on the podium. Yuri shrugged off his coach's consolations and headed for the locker rooms for a few minutes alone before facing the press. He watched the other skaters perform on the screen in the locker room, his heart getting heavier by the minute. 

He was so foolish to even imagine it was possible. Victor Nikiforov was practically a god among skaters and he was a dime a dozen skater from Japan. A nobody who couldn't even get through most qualifying events in the senior division. 

*****

When he was 23, he finally managed to qualify for the Grand Prix Final in Sochi. It had taken everything he had and more to fight his way in, but he was finally there. He had trained hard for the chance to skate the same ice as Victor again, even though he knew his idol couldn't possibly be his soulmate. It would still be worth it, he thought.

His short program went well, and after placing fourth, he was cautiously optimistic about being able to work up onto the podium with his free skate. Even if he messed up his technical score, he could usually make up most of the points through his presentation.

Returning to the hotel after the practice day between the short program and the free skate, he checked his phone and noticed he had missed a call from his sister. Setting his bag down, Yuri dialed her number, hoping it wasn't too late back home.

Her news was like a punch in the gut. He sank onto the bed, his grip tightening on the phone. Yuri removed his glasses and set them on the table, hands shaking. Tears blurred his vision further and he felt like his throats was going to close. It took him several long minutes to speak again, as she apologized over and over and asked if he was okay. 

Vicchan was gone.

Yuri hadn't been home in 5 years and now his dog was gone.  

Through the buzzing in his ears he heard Mari ask again if he was alright. “I’ll be okay, Mari. I’ll call tomorrow when Okasan is awake.”

“Are you sure,” she asked, concern in her voice. “I’m sorry to give you news like this in the middle of a competition, but I thought you’d rather know now than later.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yuri replied, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “I have to go. I’ll call tomorrow.” He hung up and fell backwards on the bed, numb for a moment. Rolling onto his side he grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it, muffling a ragged sob. Yuri didn't know how long he cried- it felt like days.

He missed a call from Celestino about dinner and ignored a call from Phichit. Only when he heard his coach threaten to have housekeeping unlock the door did Yuri finally respond. He forced himself to get up and let the other man in, sobbing through the story and falling apart all over again.

*****

To say he performed badly the next day would be a gross understatement. 

Yuri’s mind was on Vicchan, not his routine, and he barely made it through. He didn’t even bother looking up at the scoreboard in the kiss and cry; Yuri heard the score plainly enough. Any hope of a medal was obliterated- he was in 6th place.

Shrugging off Celestino’s arm, he went to find a spot away from the ice, the crowds, and most of all away from the reporters. Still, his sense of morbid curiosity eventually won out and he began to scroll through the articles already populating the news cycles.

_ Katsuki Yuri Snatches Defeat From the Jaws of Victory. _

_ Katsuki Yuri Chokes At Finals. _

_ Will Katsuki Yuri Retire After GPF Disaster _

With every article, his heart sank further. He looked at the mark on his wrist and felt tears sting his eyes once more.  _ I’m sorry, Victor. I haven’t even met you, but I don’t deserve to. _

He couldn’t even take solace in his usual fantasy. Not after a performance like that when he and Nikiforov had shared the same ice. When Victor had taken home yet another gold. How could he ever have thought he could share the ice with a skating god, let alone share a soul?

*****

Leaving the rink, he was startled to hear his name in a voice he’d only heard in interviews. His heart skipped a beat- Victor wanted to talk to him? 

Yuri turned, opening his mouth, and swallowed his reply as he saw that no, Victor wasn’t speaking to him. He was talking with Yuri Plisetsky, the junior champion from Russia. His teammate. Yuri’s heart sank again.  _ Idiot, he doesn’t know who you are. _

Suddenly, Victor seemed to sense Yuri’s eyes on him as the Russian coach berated the junior skater for something. Yuri froze as the silver-haired skater turned to look directly at him with a warm smile. 

“A commemorative photo? Sure,” Victor said with a second brilliant smile, and Yuri’s heart sank again. 

Was that really what Victor thought -- that Yuri was just some random fan? Did he not recognize him as a competitor? He had been in fourth place after the short program, for crying out loud! Stung, he rudely turned his back, ignoring Celestino and the reporter calling after him, and left the building.  He never saw the confusion on Victor’s face as the other skater watched him leave.

*****

The rest of the trip was a blur. He remembered being threatened yesterday by the Russian Yuri. He knew he had gone to the banquet. And judging by the horrendous hangover, he had overindulged on alcohol to dull his feelings. Yuri could only pray he hadn’t made an ass of himself.

He had decided to go back to Detroit and finish school, no matter what came of the rest of the season. Unable to shake off his nerves, he was a wreck at Nationals, and didn’t manage to qualify for any of the other major events that season. 

He let his depression rule him for almost a month before he returned to the ice. He desperately wanted to get back his love of skating, and he remembered how much he used to love practicing Victor’s routines with Yuuko. He could learn the one from last season so Yu-chan could see it in person, he thought. He had decided to return to Hasetsu when he graduated, at least for a while.

Yuri found himself obsessed with learning VIctor’s free skate program. It was challenging, since he wasn’t proficient at all of the jumps, but he found it enjoyable. The mood of the music and the program was melancholy and subdued, which fit his state of mind a little too perfectly these days.

He practiced for months, spending every moment he wasn’t studying at the rink. Finals passed in a blur, then graduation, and then suddenly it was time to fly home.

Yuri felt a good deal of trepidation in the homecoming. He hadn’t been home in five years, and he felt guilty about not being there for Vicchan. But as soon as he stepped through the door with Minako-sensei, a weight came off his chest. He was back among family and friends, and they wouldn’t pressure him about his losses. 

Performing the routine for Yu-chan was like a weight off his chest. He hadn’t officially decided to go back to competing, but it seemed like the perfect first step.

Despite himself the daydream came to him as he skated: He was performing at one of the exhibitions after a competition - there was no pressure to win points and it was just a chance to show his love of skating.  _ Watch me, Victor. This is for you. It always has been. _ Victor was in the crowd watching and he could hear the message in Yuri’s skating. He ran to the side of the rink as the music came to an end, his arms thrown wide as Yuri came out of the final spin-

Yu-chan’s applause and praise cut through the fantasy, jolting him back to full awareness. Blushing, he let the dream fade and skated over, talking with Yuuko and her family for a while longer before he headed home.

Little did he know that Lutz Nishigori had taped the whole thing.

*****

“V-victor? Why are you here?” Yuri’s heart was racing, confronted with the reality of his idol here in his family’s onsen. Victor Nikiforov was here. In his home.  _ Naked _ , his mind helpfully supplied.

“Yuri, starting today, I’m your coach,” the Russian replied. “I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final.” 

Yuri’s mind couldn’t process Victor’s words, still not-so-helpfully fixed on seeing his idol and crush unabashedly nude. “N-nani? Doshite? Dōiu imidesu ka?” His bewildered brain slipped back into his native tongue trying to make sense of the sudden appearance. 

Victor’s smile faltered a moment, then returned. “I don’t understand much Japanese, sorry,” he replied, stepping out of the spring and belatedly wrapping a towel around his waist. “I’m hungry- is there anything to eat? We can talk more about coaching later.”

****

The next few weeks were unreal. Yuri couldn’t figure out what Victor had seen in him that made him come all this way just to be Yuri’s coach. He wasn’t going to question it too much, though. 

What was most puzzling was the way Victor kept coming onto him. While he had dreamed of it for years, being suddenly and inexplicably confronted with Victor’s shameless flirting was overwhelming. He was acting like they’d already flirted before he came to Japan but that wasn’t possible - they had never even spoken!

*****

Yuri became used to Victor’s flirting as the months passed - or at least as used to it as it was possible to be. He allowed himself to relax around the other man a little, daring to let himself hope. Maybe his Victor  _ was  _ Victor Nikiforov after all?

That summer was the best of his life, training and falling in love with Victor. Yuri gradually began to flirt back, usually on the ice where he felt most comfortable. He was hardly able to believe what was happening. It felt like the dream might shatter at any point, but he wasn’t willing to give it up.

They never spoke about their soulmarks; Yuri didn’t want to ask in case this was just some fling or frivolous idea of Victor’s. He pointedly didn’t look, even though Victor left his bare for all to see. He knew he was just setting himself up for heartbreak, but he couldn’t keep himself from falling.

*****

Their first kiss was unexpected; Victor was teasing him as they showered off the sand and saltwater from a trip to the beach. Yuri, knocked over by a wave had come up with seaweed in his hair, and it had terrified Makkachin into running halfway down the beach yelping. 

Victor was still laughing about it, and had reached over to “help” Yuri wash his hair. Yuri caught his hand, intending to push it away, then caught sight of Victor’s face, beautiful in his mirth and the fading light. He wanted to capture that moment in a bottle and keep it forever. Before he could overthink it, Yuri closed the distance between them and caught Victor’s lips with his own. It only lasted a moment before Yuri pulled away, blushing furiously and biting his lower lip nervously.

Victor touched his own lips a moment, looking surprised, then smiled brilliantly. Yuri let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, then smiled back. They finished washing off unable to keep small smiles off their faces, and Victor stole a second kiss before they headed back to the onsen, a little longer this time, but just as chaste.

*****

It was after the free skate at the Cup of China that Victor finally showed him his soulmark. Yuri had, after the initial happiness, dissolved into a mini panic attack at the thought that they had just kissed on live tv in front of the whole world. 

“Yuri.” His voice was quiet and calm. Yuri was shaking and trying to calm himself down to little effect. “Yuri, give me your hand,” Victor said softly, gently taking Yuri’s hand and turning it palm up. He traced the katakana of Yuri’s soul mark lightly with a single finger, then glanced up to catch Yuri’s eyes. “I know what it says,” he murmured, and Yuri’s breath hitched. Yuri had a denial on the tip of his tongue, and was about to pull away when Victor continued, “don’t you want to see mine?”

Unable to speak, Yuri nodded, taking the wrist that Victor offered him. Even though he hadn’t yet mastered the Cyrillic alphabet, he recognized the letters. They were on his badge from Sochi. It was his own name.

Looking up at Victor’s face, Yuri couldn’t help but smile as his heart soared. Whatever came next, he knew he would never face it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> Thank you all for your support! I have had so much fun exploring this au, and getting back into fic. Kudos again to TessaOnIce for the beta and the encouragement. Also for being blunt and telling me when I was overwriting or just rehashing episode 1.
> 
> The "commemorative photo" scene seems to take place in the ice arena, which is why I've placed it before the banquet. Also, please forgive my Japanese- it's all off Google.
> 
> Translations:   
> Moushi wakenai - I feel really terrible / I’m extremely sorry  
> Nani - What?   
> Doshite - Why?  
> Dōiu imidesu ka? - What do you mean?

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive my first attempt at YOI fic; I’ve been out of fic writing for years and I’m a bit rusty. Major kudos to tessacrowley for the prompt, the encouragement, and the beta-reading! And don’t let me forget your Otayuri Barcelona coda! Thanks!
> 
> I am completely infatuated with this fandom and hope to make even more fanworks for it. You can find me on tumblr at valentineart89, where I am a rabid reblogger of everything YOI, some of my own non-fandom art, and more.
> 
> Please let me know if you want me to continue this. I’d like to write something about Yuri and Victor’s summer from the end credit scenes- let me know your thoughts! I’m also thinking about other fic of Victor showing Yuri around St. Petersburg. It’s one of my favorite cities and I have tons of photos to do a multimedia fic… any interest?
> 
> Translations:  
> Spasibo – Thank you


End file.
